In honor of you
by accioepiphany
Summary: In which Jaime Lannister pays a visit to the North, if this means finally reaching Brienne of Tarth. A room has to be shared and words are exchanged with a powerful effect on both parts.


They were at Brienne's chambers. The place she offered to fix him somewhere to sleep, as the Starks maintained a lack of trust towards him despite Brienne's intervention at his defense. She was arranging what was going to be his bed, while he looked around the room, still fixated at something he noticed when he arrived.

—So, why is that wild animal...— Brienne gave him a reprehensible look while he turned his eyes —...wild...ling? Wild lad? Just lad? Why is that lad so into you?— He asked while giving his best face of concern, and playing disinterestedly with what was supposed to be his blanket. Brienne remained quiet, so he continued —Yeah... You think I didn't noticed the looks and the constant approaches to speak to you, he was making?— Brienne sighed deeply. She didn't understand why Tormund kept approaching her despite knowing she was focused on different business, she had made that perfectly clear to him in several occasions. Perhaps there were no such commitments in the world of the Free Folk? Only take as you may? Who knows. But what was even more annoying of this whole situation was Jaime noticing his strange interest in her in the few hours he had been around —I mean, is not like he stands a chance... Right?— Jaime asked while turning to her, expecting her reaction. She simply left a 'pfft' escape her mouth, more in dismissal at his attempt to get her to talk than in answer to his question, and then returned to fix the sheets —But, you know. I'm more worried about your allegiance. I understand the commitment to the Starks, but this guy? I'm concerned, you know? He is unpredictable... What if he suddenly wants you to leave AND live with him, huh? You gotta keep an eye on that one.

—It is none of your business. I'm already putting myself on the spot for you... They are letting you sleep in the castle... Which is a lot—. She said, giving him a strong look so he understood the mess he had put her into —And I'm sharing my room with you, sacrificing my own personal space. So, drop it.

—Exactly! I'm sleeping in the same room that you, and you haven't deny your status with this bearded... being. You might be involved with this wildling and how would I know? When he comes slipping through your door? "Quietly"? Pretending Jaime would not notice...

Brienne knew he was being his arrogant self, using his wit to mess with her head and get information out of it. It has been a very eventful and emotional evening, all the news Jaime brought had been a little expected, considering who Cersei Lannister is, but still impacting and a little unbelievable. Nevertheless, she trusted him, she knew he wouldn't lie. Not to her. But his intentions were still unclear, he had spoken about honor and revenge, and something more than family and a name. Indeed, he was still holding the same values he held when he became Kingslayer, but the reasons behind choosing Winterfell fell short. "I knew you wouldn't let them kill me, Lady Brienne", he had said, "have I went somewhere else, there might not be someone to have my back". But he wasn't a lonely deer, he knew how to look after himself, and Bronn could have been enough to keep him save, as he have been for so long. There was more to it. And he was the one that had to talk about it, say more than what he was saying, give her some words to work with.

—Bronn could be boning a wildling and you would encourage him to do so. So, why do you care?

Jaime noticed her face turning to an angry expression, she didn't wanted to play his games. He had to say something else if he wanted to stay in that room for the night.

—You're the only one I trust right now—. He answered, straight to her sapphire eyes —Well, maybe Bronn too, but he is so much of his own being, that... who knows with him...— He said with a little smirk, that disappeared quite fast after noticing Brienne's impassable stare. Jaime moved closer to her, his expression starting to get loose. —I came here for you. I didn't chose Winterfell because I was fond of seeing how a reunion with the remaining Starks will go. Hell, maybe it will be friendly! Worth a chance!— Brienne listened closely, her stare fixed. She still haven't heard something satisfying. Jaime loose a little more, his fake smile turning into a trembling quiver —I would have gone back to Riverrun, went to Dorn, to Braavos, to Tarth... to the land of the Free Folk... hell, wherever, if that happened to be your residence.

Brienne was starting to feel his impatience and his doubt all around his face. He had nowhere else to go. The only love he had ever known betrayed him in the worst way anyone could have endured. Yet, she needed to hear the whole thing, from his own mouth, his words forming by themselves.

—Again. Why do you care?

Jaime stepped closer. Close enough to whisper and be heard clearly, but far enough to fit another body in between them.

—I don't know what this is—. Who was speaking now came clear to Brienne as an old Jaime she has once met in a hot tub back when they were in hold of Bolton's men —I have only been with Cersei before—. He lowered his gaze as a long silence proceed. Brienne decided to wait —My entire life I've known no one else—. He then raised his gaze to meet hers. This time he wasn't greeted by the stoned sapphires, but by the soft lakes. He couldn't help the tears that started to flow down his cheeks, he hasn't felt more vulnerable than when he had just became Kingslayer, meeting the stares of unknowing people, strangers whose gaze still felt like judgmental sentences. The difference was that it wasn't vulnerability with exposure and fear, but vulnerability with expectance and safety. Though, when he spoke again he wasn't showing the vulnerable face but the honorable one, —You have my sword Brienne. The one that now is more inherently yours than mine. You know better than anyone else what that means— the Oathkeeper was speaking.

Brienne moved closer, making the space between them scarce, only a thin layer of air now separating them. She wanted him to look deeper into her eyes, and to shed no more tears by seeing that he was now in a safe place. He actually had someone else besides Cersei, he had the guardian of his sword. Even though he had mentioned more than once that Oathkeeper was hers, she had never felt it belong to her, she have always felt she was the custodian, the one in charge of protecting a very important part of Jaime Lannister... Maybe for some time, maybe indefinitely. Brienne didn't move further. Honor, compromise, decorum, stopped her from moving anymore. She just looked at him with a soft expression.

—Brienne...

—I can't. I made a vow and honor compels me to don't make any move.

Jaime reached her left ear.

—You don't have to _do_ anything— And he slowly retreated to his previous position. Then, he moved his hand, the one that could hold swords and that he had to force to stop trembling, to touch her arm. From her wrist upwards, slowly tracing a path to her shoulder, her back, her neck; while she stayed still. She wasn't backing away, so he decided to touch her face, it was softer than what he had imagined. Her eyes were following his hand, the one that after caressing her left cheek started making its way to the back of her neck, holding her face for a second while he stared at her.

—Jaime...— She said in a pleading way. She couldn't do this. This has went too far. She knew that he will never do anything she didn't agree to, which was why he stopped, but he didn't let go of her face either, probably knowing that she wasn't sure if she wanted him to.

—Trust me.

And how couldn't her. After he had given her that trust so long ago. He was a smart man. She gave a small nod. Jaime made a simple quirk. He moved his hand farther and reached the back of her neck, bringing her closer, finally meeting her lips.

Their meeting felt warmer than any home. There was nothing more certain than this kiss, nothing more truthful. Here was where they were supposed to be, both of them, together, in each other's embrace.

As Brienne returned his kiss, she noticed that holding back was irrelevant now and her hands went to his hips and his face. Jaime got apart for a second and whispered:

—I knew you'll be good at this— Brienne only gave him a raised eyebrow and a little smile before falling again to him. Jaime pushed forward a little, bringing her closer to her bed, he wasn't planning on sleeping in the one she was arranging. Brienne got apart when he tried to place her in the bed.

—I... I have never done this.

—I told you. You don't have to _do_ anything.

And he placed her there, carefully, while smiling tenderly and kissing her again. Taking charge of the situation. With Brienne, he wasn't being naive, nor a fool. He was in love, but not because he was tricked into it, but because his heart had finally reached a safe haven.

-/-

After the sun started to rise again, and Brienne found herself tangled in Jaime's warm and naked arms, she stared at his companion and then at the room around her. She saw their swords carefully laying one on top of the other, she watched his pleasing face, careless of what today may bring, while hers was full of worries and something else... a kind of peacefulness and... what could be the word for that? pleasantness? joy? perhaps... happiness? But this could only mean a storm will follow, hence the worry. She stared at him again, remembering all the words he had muttered the night before, how he have tangled her in them, built a fortress with each one, and then putted her in it. Well, he was quiet now. No words remained. No hospice came with dawn. Brienne got untangled from him. In what was starting to feel like desperation, she searched for her clothes and armor around the room, got dressed fast and went to pick up her sword, which betrayed her, and on picking it up made Jaime's sword, which was laying on top, sound quite loud. Jaime was awake.

—Where are you going this early?— Brienne didn't answer. She just ran to the door. But Jaime, free of armor and way more agile, won her to it —Brienne, wait. We cannot go back to this.

—No more words, Sir Jaime.

—No more words?

—No more.

Jaime nodded. He was standing in the coldness of Winter as he came to the world, not a trace of any clothes near, and no intention to go and put some, either.

—Then last words.

—No... —She whispered, so low it was more of a plea to herself than an answer to him. She knew there wasn't much she could do. He wasn't moving away from the door, and she wasn't using any kind of force against him. So last words it'll be. She took a linen from the bed they shared and threw it at him. He putted it over, stopped shivering a little and then started talking again.

—If this was to be our last night, Lady Brienne, I want you to know it will be the best and, certainly, the truest and most honorable night I've ever have. May we spend many more like this, either on each others embrace or fighting side by side, you should now that, by doing this, my life would've finally achieved a purpose, accomplishing an honor only you can bring to my existence. And that's all I can hope for, though I'm conscious you deserve much more than that... much more than this mess of a man. You deserve victory, you deserve praise, you deserve happiness... you deserve love. You are highly capable of achieving all of these by yourself... And I'm sorry I can only offer help on he latter... but I'll be more than glad to do so, in your honor.

Words. He have disarmed her with words once again. With him, this was a battle she will always lose.


End file.
